
Another private event, I know they're gonna expect lots of personal attention. Big events are much better, all guests want are their appetizers and an open bar. Shit, I'm here now, might as well earn my gas money.
When I arrived, Mrs. showed me where to hang up my coat and then I followed her to the kitchen. It was nice sized, I could tell they had some work done to it--all of the appliances were brand-spanking new and sparkly. She showed me the food the caterer had delivered, this is gonna be a very private event, it didn’t look like enough food for my family's Sunday dinner. Next she showed me the dining room and the table was exquisitely set...for two.
“Excuse me...exactly how many people am I serving this evening?”
“Its just me and my husband.”
She must’ve noticed the look on my face because she said, “Its okay, this is something we do every so often…we like to treat ourselves.” She smiled and gave me a wink.
This touched the romantic side of me. Why go to out to a fancy restaurant, spend money on gas, parking, mediocre service, okay food and no privacy, when for a few dollars more, you can have a better experience in the comfort of your own home. I bet they have a great relationship, like some of the couples I see in farmer's market on Saturday mornings, still holding hands after being together for years.
Back in the kitchen, Mrs. gives me the one direction for the evening, “when we’re ready to eat, we’ll ring the bell and that’s when you can bring the next course, don't come in unless you're called," she nods, I nod in response and she walks out. Is that it? Huh, that's all...really? Well, okay, I can do that, no fuss, no muss, plus there's a small tv in the kitchen so I'll watch between courses.
As I began unwrapping the food, Mr. came into the kitchen and introduced himself.
“Good evening, may I get you something?”
“No thank you, my wife asked me to let you know we’ll start with the amuse-bouche promptly at 7:30pm and from then on to wait for the bell.”
“Yes sir, wait for the bell.” What the hell is up with the freakin' bell?
He went their tabletop wine cellar and pulled out a 2005 Mouton Cadet. He began talking--I guess to me--as he unscrewed the cork.
“Mrs. bought one of those fancy wine openers, but I can’t use it. I prefer to just screw in and pull it out, if you know what I mean.” We both chuckled, him because he thought he was funny and me because I want a big tip. He took the wine into the dining room and I heard him place it in the wine chiller and then light the candles. Then I heard the music begin, it was a nice smooth joint, something I hadn’t heard before; I turned the tv on and got to switchin' in the kitchen.
He greeted her as she came into the dining room, he pulled out her chair and poured the wine. They were chittin’ & chattin’ away when I brought in the amuse-bouche at 7:30 on the nose.
They both said thank you and I disappeared into the kitchen. I decided to go ahead and pour the soup into the bowls cuz I knew the bell would be coming quick. I mean how long does it really take to eat an amuse-bouche? And sure enough, just as I had wiped off the rims of the bowls, I heard it. I immediately went out, cleared their places and then brought out the soup.
I plated the salad in case the soup course was as quick too, plus, its salad, it won’t get cold. I turned the tv up a smidge, careful not to be too loud. If I played this evening right, it could turn out to be a regular gig. Mrs. said they do this pretty regularly and a steady thing would be nice for the bank account. I heard the bell and went out, removing the soup bowls, placing the salads and offering dressing.
“Thank you, would you get another bottle of Mouton for us,” Mr. said.
“What year?”
“There’s another 2005 in there, get that.”
“Certainly, I’ll be right back.”
I returned with the open wine and was about to pour when he said, “No, I’ll do it, thank you.”
“Yes sir,” and I took the empty bottle to the kitchen with me. I knew the salad would take a minute to eat, so I began loading the dishwasher. I scooped the sorbet into martini glasses, covered them and put in the freezer--little trick I learned--to keep them from melting, wouldn't be good for it to be their second soup course. Between the dishes, prepping sorbets & watching tv, I lost of track of time, when I realized that 15 minutes had passed and I hadn’t heard the bell, the salad wasn't that big. I'm about to take a peek, when I heard the bell; I jumped, heehee. I went in to clear the salad plates and something was different; they were both looking intently at each other, with huge smiles on their faces. I cleared the table, uncovered the sorbets and served them. They were definitely having sex tonight, you could feel the sexual tension in the air.
I immediately plate the chicken, they're gonna finish the sorbet as quickly as the amuse-bouche. Okay, done and nothing, nothing and more nothing. What the hell is taking so long? Are they fucking on the dining room table? Shit, I bet they're gettin' busy on the table. I peek out and instantly get wet...her chair is away from the table, her head is hanging back and her blouse is open, he's on his knees in front of her with his arms around her waist, sucking her titties and she is rubbing her hands through his braids. She sees me, I duck back, heart pounding and embarrassed; why didn’t I wait for the damn bell. I hadn’t finished yelling at myself when I heard the fuckin' bell. I shook it off and went out.
Oh hell, he's back in his seat with his shirt off, revealing his perfectly shaped pecs, muscular arms and broad shoulders and his braids are totally disheveled. Then I see her, I really see her, she is topless; she is sitting at the dining room table with no blouse or bra, her perky nips are at full attention. They are sitting there as though this shit is normal. What the hell? Where am I? What have I gotten myself into, I gotta get out right-the-hell-now. Focus, keep it together; I have a job to do and I need this money. I’m so shaky, I almost drop the martini glasses...they giggle...oh hell. I come back with the chicken and they're still there, still topless.
"Bring another bottle of Mouton" and before I could ask, "it doesn't matter what year."
I grab the first bottle I see, open it and take it out. He reaches for it, so he can pour it. I get my ass back in the kitchen and drink some water, shit, I need real drink to get through tonight. Something tells me the drunker they get, the fewer clothes they'll keep on.
Option 1: leave now, forget the pay, the tip and the leftovers...fuck, then I gotta borrow money for rent
Option 2: get through this, get paid, get the tip and the leftovers...have hellafied story to tell grrrls tomorrow
1 or 2, stay or go, yes or no, up or down, right or left, salt or pepper...what the hell, focus, shit...option 2 it is.
Do I turn up the tv so I don't hear or do I turn down the tv in order to hear; they don't seem to mind me seeing, so listening should be no big deal. I turn it down and begin plating the salmon...this is better than listening to my roommate and her boyfriend:
"Is this how you like it Daddy?"
"You know it is baby"
"Daddy, now if you want it different this time, all you have to do is ask...k, Daddy?"
Then it got quiet, he was moaning and moaning. She must be giving him head. Damn, she must be doin' it right, cuz he is going crazy out there...you go grrlfriend, take care of your man...I ain't mad at you...shit, now I'm gettin' horny and wetter.
Just as I'm about to put the salmon in the oven to stay warm, the bell rings. Okay, you can do this, you're a professional, just don't look down. I take a deep breath and head for the dining room.
I go to clear the dishes and Mrs. says, "leave those for a second, I need your help with something."
Ohhhhhhhh damnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!! What does she need me for? They both sittin' there butt-butterball nekked, what can I do. They got this...I'm positive. "Yesss, how can I help?"
"I want you to kiss him."
"Huh?" I'm not breathing, this isn't good, I may faint if I don't start breathing.
"I want you to sit on his lap and kiss him."
"Huh?" My mind is racing a thousand miles an hour and yet I can't seem to keep a comprehensible thought in my fuckin' head.
I look at him, he's all smiles, and I can tell from his full-throttle manhood that he is more than willing to oblige her. I must still have a some strange look on my face because she stands up and gives me kiss on the cheek and gently guides me onto his lap. His manhood is pressing against my leg, his arms are holding me on his firm thighs and I lean into him and we begin kissing. This is some serious kissing; his full lips are soft and feel wonderful next to mine. I open my mouth slightly and his tongue makes a quick visit, then I open more and our tongues meet, its fantastic and I'm fully engaged. I'm rubbing his chest, shoulder, arm with one hand and stroking his braids with the other. And he's just as engaged, he begins moving his hand down my torso, my waist, my hips and then takes his hand under my skirt, his hand is so soft against my thigh. My panties are soaking wet and my nipples are now saluting him as he holds me closer. Then I notice something, someone else, Mrs., is massaging my shoulders. I don't do women; I don't roll like that...this is going too far.
I pull back, Mrs. leans in, "relax, its okay, keep going," and he pulls me to him, we begin kissing again and she reaches down, unbuttons my shirt and begins fondling my titties, first over my bra, then under it. I'm completely and utterly turned on by the two of them. He brings his hand between my legs and I spread them, giving him access to my pussy, he wastes no time in putting two fingers in me...I'm taken aback and give him a small orgasm. He takes out his fingers and gives them to HER to lick clean. I'm having an out-of-body experience.
Mrs. gently helps me off his lap, then straddles his dick with her back to him, and begins going up & down on it. After a few of strokes, I can tell its time for me to leave them and as I start to slowly back away, she grabs my wrist, pulls me closer and with her other hand puts 3 fingers in my pussy and begins fucking me in the same rhythm as shes rides Mr. I cum almost immediately. I have no idea what is going on, but this shit is working and working well.
Damn, I can't wait to bring out dessert.
6 comments:
wow, that was hot. Good story Shannon.
I started right into the story and before I could get to the end I was like...Shannon! Your mind's creations are something else girlfriend. This is awesome.
intimate setting are always the best
Good one. You really know how to pull your reader into what's going on and make them wonder what's going to happen next. I like that.
DELICIOUS!
BON APETITE!
This is Fire! I want to know what's for dessert?
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